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Ae weet forenicht i’ the yow-trummle I saw yon antrin thing, A watergaw wi’ its chitterin’ licht Ayont the on-ding; An’ I thocht o’ the last wild look ye gied Afore ye deed!
There was nae reek i’ the laverock’s hoose That nicht–an’ nane i’ mine; But I hae thocht o’ that foolish licht Ever sin’ syne; An’ I think that mebbe at last I ken What your look meant then.
translated from the Scotts Gaelic version by Hugh MacDiarmid
The Watergaw
One wet, early evening in the sheep-shearing season I saw that occasional, rare thing– A broken shaft of a rainbow with its trembling light Beyond the downpour of the rain And I thought of the last, wild look you gave Before you died.
The skylark’s nest was dark and desolate, My heart was too But I have thought of that foolish light Ever since then And I think that perhaps at last I know What your look meant then.